


Unexpected Treasure

by SilverSunshine2012



Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Panic Attack, Pirate AU, Pirate/Siren au, allusion to death, it gets better once the comfort part begins i promise, major guilt, siren au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-04-26 13:44:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14403363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverSunshine2012/pseuds/SilverSunshine2012
Summary: Logan is the captain, and Patton is his first mate.  Roman is a siren and tries to seduce Logan with his song.  But Logan's not so easily swayed.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so idk what I'm doing here. This is my first ever original fanfic. So please be nice. Criticism is appreciated, but go easy on me yeah? Thanks a big fuckin whop to @punttonsanders on tumblr who helped me even START this thing, and for beta-ing beautifully! <3 Okay i think that's it, I hope y'all enjoy!

Logan stood at the stern looking out into the sea. He loved it all so much. The salt on his face, the wind in his hair, the moon reflecting on the water; it was home. They had been in open waters since they last docked about three months ago; two months, one week and four days to be exact. Logan knew he had a loyal, reliable crew on his fine pirate ship. Indeed, he couldn’t have asked for one better. Though they were not pirates in the traditional sense, being that they didn't steal cargo from other vessels to make a living, they did take on many challenging voyages. At the moment, he and his crew were on a journey to recover the lost loot of the infamous Stoker-face—a pirate ship with the ever-crafty Captain “Stoker-face” Joan at its helm. They were well known for hiding their most valuable spoils on a particularly dangerous island. It had many foreboding names: “Melodic Death,” “Sailor’s Doom,” “The Ship Graveyard,” but it was most famously known as “Siren’s Keep.”

  
“Captain Logan!” He turned toward the direction of the voice interrupting his thoughts to see his first mate, Patton, flailing wildly, waving what appeared to be the map, gesturing for him to come look.

  
“What is it, Patton?” he asked, heading down the steps from the stern to meet him at the starboard side of the deck right outside the door to the general quarters.  
“So, I was looking at the map,” Patton said turning his face back to the object in question and pointing at a certain spot, “And I saw on the route you mapped there’s this island we pass that says something about sirens? What are those?”

  
“Ah, yes,” Logan said, adjusting his glasses, “Sirens are, for lack of a better word, merfolk who have the vocal capability of reaching notes that induce a deep state of hypnosis. They are very dangerous creatures that have lured many a sailor, captain, and crew to their watery death.”

  
“Yikes,” Patton visibly shuttered, “So, what happens to them? The sailors, I mean. Like, what do the sirens want with them?”

  
Putting a hand on Patton’s shoulder he said, “No one really knows, and we aren’t going to find out,” gesturing with resolve between himself and his first mate at the word ‘we’, to which Patton seemed to relax a bit and giggle.

  
Logan gave him one last nod and pat on the back (you have no idea how much it took to not write “Patton the back”) of reassurance before Patton went back to his duties. He then headed down to the captains quarters to get some rest before tonight and to recount his plan in his head to work out any flaws. Before going on any journey, the well versed captain prepared and over prepared, within reason. Patton and Virgil usually had the less likely scenarios covered.. Logan gave a pained chuckle and sighed at the memory, but then willed the thought aside for now. When he was last on land, he had read up on as much as he could about the most efficient areas of the sea to travel through on this particular journey and what they entailed. In doing so, he thoroughly studied up on sirens. One of the books he found on it was called ‘The Odyssey’, in which the ship captain had his crew tie him to the mast and put earplugs in their own ears. Logan had, let’s say, mixed feelings on this particular approach. On the one hand, he thought it quite the ingenious solution, being that Odysseus had very little at his disposal at the time and was significantly lacking in knowledge of the workings of electronics. On the other, Logan was in fact quite knowledgeable on the subject, and would prefer that his crew not see him in such a state of disarray, nor even be in one in the first place. As captain, he had a certain stature, and aura of authority to uphold. So, unlike Odysseus, Logan chose to engineer a special kind of earplug that only blocked out the sirens’ hypnotic frequency. That way, those on the ship would still be able to hear the sirens actually singing without going into trance, and therefore would know when they were past the infested waters and when they could take them out again.

  
Once he had gone over the plan again, Logan took off his trench coat, hung it on the rack by the door, took off his boots, and set them down next to the mattress, which lay directly on the floor, covered by a simple blanket and a single pillow, and held in place against the wall by two small wooden structures bolted to the floor at the corners away from the wall. Logan was a minimalist, after all. Besides, he needed room for all the books he had stocked up on over the years. Bookshelves lined the walls of the room, and each book on the shelf was held in place against the constant rocking of the boat by a lip between ¾-1 inch tall. Logan had measured all the books himself and made sure that the individual shelves would be tall enough that when he grabbed a book he could lift it above the lip without an issue. There were also plenty of books on his desk that were held down by a feat of engineering as well. These seemed to create some sort of fort-like structure for when he did not wish to be disturbed unless it was the most dire of circumstances.

  
He took a book from one of the shelves--“Sign of the Four” By Sir Arthur Conan Doyle--and meandered toward the mattress on the floor. As Logan laid down, slowly trying to drift off, (What? No! He certainly did not grab a book simply to cuddle with it! That would be absurd!) his mind kept replaying every detail of the plan and every detail of what he'd read about the sirens. They shouldn't be a problem. Even if the earplugs don't work, most of the crew, himself included, are gay, and most of the sirens he’d read about all seemed to be female. If the earplugs don't save them, their sexuality should. Right?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan has a guilt-ridden panic attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY BITCHES!! MISS ME? Well, I’m back! I finally, FINALLY finished chapter 2 and yall, i am elated rn, just !!! (actually i finished it a while ago i just was an idiot and forgot abt ao3.. if ya want to make sure you get the updates when they happen yall might wanna consider going and following me on the tumblzone silversunshine2012.tumblr.com haha) Okay, so first and foremost, big huge ginormous thanks to @punttonsanders on tumblr for beta-ing and being an amazing friend trying to help me out and staying up so fuckin late several nights to help me finish this, and making this fun and keeping me going and just cheering me on through my own insecurities, just thank you! <3 Second, yall may have noticed, i have like, zero writing/posting schedule. it just comes when it comes, i just can’t force shit like this. Third, and this is very VERY important. Please mind the trigger warnings in the new tags. The first half got far more intense than i had originally planned on. For those of you who wont be able to read it, that’s okay, I’ll catch y’all up in the next chapter with the jist of the story part w/o the triggering shit :)

 

_ Panic.  No matter how hard he tried to remain calm and rationally assess the situation, all he could do was watch from where he sat frozen.  The storm had been raging impossibly long, and it appeared everyone on board was taking the necessary precautions. Too-heavy cargo bobbed and heaved as the waves played volleyball with their shiny new toys.  Someone was shouting. Really everyone was shouting, but someone was shouting near him. Someone was shouting--no, screaming--from the small boat he was on. He.. he was in the water.  _

_ The sea grabbed their small vessel and lobbed it away from both the ship and the island.  He tried to get a grip and for the gods’ sake just stay on the boat! All they could do was hope the boat held and didn’t go belly up.  He’s.. gone. Oh gods, oh goddesses, he- _

_ Then suddenly, he was in his quarters, reading, as usual.  As if nothing had happened. He was sitting at his desk inside the pseudo safety of his make-believe fortress of books when he heard a tapping.   _

_ “Come in!”  The door opened at that.  When he didn’t hear anyone speaking, he looked up from his book.  When his eyes focused in the direction of the door, he saw him. That slouch was unmistakable.  Iconic, even. When the figure at the door looked up at him, all he could see was hurt, and betrayal. _

_ “Why?”  He was shivering with anger. _

_ “What do-”  He was just shivering. _

_ “WHY?!”   _

_ “We- we couldn’t!  We tried! We-” _

_ “What about you?” he spat. _

_ “W- what?”  He was frozen. _

_ “You said ‘we’.  But did you try?”  Each word a throwing star in his heart, echoing and pounding in his brain.   _

_ Suddenly the figure’s voice came from beside him, and he swiveled to look at him on reflex.  The man’s hand was over his shoulder, leaning on the chair behind him. _

_ “Did you even try, Logan?” _

_ He couldn’t formulate a response. _

_ With a huff of a laugh, one filled with venom, one that found a sick sort of humor in its owner’s naivete, “I guess I’m not your friend after all.  Or were you just never mine?” _

_ Everything was spinning.  Spinning. Spinning, spinning, spinning, spinning.  He couldn’t hold on. His friend turned into ash and shadow incarnate before his eyes.  He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breath! He tried to apologize, but the shadow kept swallowing his cries. _

_ “Mffmhffh-il!  I’mph fmmhhfffmmhh -y!  I’mfff fmm hmh-rry!!” he sobbed.  He was shaking. Weeping with every fiber of his being.  He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t save him. He had tried so hard.  No. He hadn’t tried at all. Too frozen in the moment to be anything more than a large paper weight to keep the boat upright.  What kind of captain just lets something like that happen?  _

_ He was fully engulfed now in the shadow.  His mind reeled, and tornadoed through his head and wouldn’t stop.  Everything was vivid. They had rope with them for that very purpose.  They were all wearing life jackets, where was his life jacket? But if he’d moved an inch from where he’d been, that would’ve been the end of the boat.  But was a boat worth a friend?! But would he have been able to save him if the boat was on top of him? Not just him, but all of them! He could’ve killed all three of them by trying to save him.  As they tried to swim out from under it, their movements in the water would’ve moved the boat with them and they wouldn’t have been able to get out from underneath it.. But, maybe he’s alright? He had a life jacket, right?  Oh gods, was he repeating himself?  _

_ “Logan!”  He couldn’t do it.  He couldn’t save him. _

_ “Captain, wake up!”  He was being tossed around.  No. Shaken. Someone was shaking him. _

“Logan!”  He gasped awake, now sitting up.  Someone was talking to him. He couldn’t breathe.  Then he was wrapped in a hug. A warm, gentle, grounding, solidifying  _ hug _ .  

“It’s alright, Logan,” the voice said gently, dotingly shushing him and whispering soft reassurances.  They were rubbing his back. 

The warm scent of cinnamon and summer greeted his nostrils.  Not over-powering, but present. When he opened his eyes a little, his watery vision could only tell him “blue” and “gray.”  He felt himself relax a little, sighing as he realized who was holding him. Patton. He began to search his senses for signs of reality.  Sight: Patton, book shelves, desk. Sound: Gulls, Patton, waves. Touch: Mattress, book, Patton. Smell: Patton. Wonderful, warm, sweet, caring  _ Patton _ .  Slowly coming back to reality.  

“Shh, it was just a dream.”  But that was it. It  _ wasn’t _ just a dream.  

“No..  It wasn’t, he- he’s..” he choked on his own tears. “He’s really gone.. It wasn’t a dream, he’s really gone!”  He felt Patton squeeze tighter, as his quiet, body sobs filled the room. 

“It’s alright, Logan.  We’re safe now.”

“But, w- what about him? He- he-”

“Hey, you did everything that you could do.  We did everything we could. It’s okay-”

“But it’s NOT okay!  I just SAT THERE! I didn’t-  I, I couldn’t move, I- I sh- should’ve-”

“Hey.”  Patton’s tone turned almost scolding, but with the next phrase it returned to its gentler, softer form.  “Look at me.”

Logan reluctantly pushed himself off of Patton’s shoulder to do just that.  His eyes, red and tear-stained, looked with a broken hope into his first mate’s, and saw nothing but a gentle, almost fatherly gaze in return.  

“It wasn’t your fault.  It wasn’t anyone’s fault.  You did the best you could.  There wasn’t anything more you could’ve done.  Hell, you’re the only reason the two of us are still alive!  You held the boat together, and made sure we didn’t fall too.”  Holy shit.  _ Patton _ said ‘hell.’  Maybe.. maybe he’s right.  Maybe he did try his hardest.  At least he was able to save the two of them, right?

As Logan’s eyes began to flood again, he scrunched them shut and dove back into Patton’s caring arms.  He could remember trying to comfort Patton after it happened. Gods he was always so bad at that. He wished he could’ve been able to say something comforting to him at the time, but all he could do was just hold him.  Just be there. Just, understand. Grieve with him. But in moments like this he was so grateful to Patton. To think where he would be right now if Patton had gone down too, or worse, if Patton had to deal with losing them both all by himself.  Perhaps, he did do everything he could have done. Maybe.. maybe it wasn’t his fault. Grieving takes time. He knew he’d probably be alright eventually. Maybe someday he’ll be able to look back on the good moments they all had and smile. Just.. not today.


End file.
